Soriel Week 2017
by Subtle Shenanigans
Summary: AKA how to hit all the prompts you missed in one go. All seven prompts written as itty bitty ficlets. Not very romantic; more contemplative. T for safety and one curse word. UNBETA'D.


**A/N: So I didn't realized that was Soriel week until about two days ago, and was busy a lot, so I'm just going to writing** _ **ALL**_ **the prompts as mini ficlyes together here.**

 **I have never written Soriel (my Undertale OTP) nor most of the Undertale AUs (my favourite is Underfell, and I like Reapertale, Handplates/(and)/Babyblasters, Outertale, Altertale, Outerfell, and Flowerfell out of the major AUs) so please bear with me.**

 **Contains Male!Frisk mentions and possibly Female!Chara.**

 **EDIT: ~this is a mess! This is a mess! Oh thou late night writing, what a mess!~**

 **DISCLAIMER** **: That sly Fox named Toby owns Undertale, not me.**

* * *

 _Soriel Week Ficlets_

* * *

 _ **Day 1 – Trust**_

". . . please, protect them, will you not?"

Her voice, soft, rang with the tinge of held-back tears. There was silence as she waited for her friend ( _friend? Yes - friend_ ) to answer her. The silence rang louder.

Then her ear twitched, the sound of him shifting against the door. Something like a knobby spine brushing against woodwork. It was still a long moment before he answered.

A tear had already found its way out, sliding down her muzzle.

A sigh. "Geez, how can a guy say no to that, Lady? I - _hhf_ \- yeah, I'll look out for the little bugger if one ever comes through.

She let herself cry silently, this time with relief. It took a lot of trust - so much trust - to ask him of this. But she did trust him, so much so that she was willing to place her child's life in his hands.

. . . or paws? Who knew?

She chuckled, voice tight with emotion. "Thank you, my dear friend."

"Aw Lady," he chuffed awkwardly at that. "It's no problem, if not a tad _peccaryular."_

She giggled, wiping her face. "Are peccary even deers?"

She smiled when he responded; she could _hear_ him shrug.

"I think so? Eh, the wording was probly a stretch anyhow."

* * *

 _ **Day 2 – Sleep**_

Soft, slanted shafts of worn gold poured through the window and fell upon them, dust motes casually drifting through the air like lazy, lackadaisical fireflies.

Sans watched, eye lights soft and following them at a sluggish pace. A contented sigh slipped from him, and the body next to him breathed deeply.

He glanced at her without moving from the couch they lay on; Toriel on her side, facing him, her ear splayed out on her outstretched arms she laid her head upon. Sans lay next to her, watching the rare feat of an afternoon nap that wasn't featuring him.

Somewhere a clocked chimed; it was five, perhaps six. The sky tinged evening-soft as it did in late summer.

Sans sighed once more, letting himself enjoy the moment. He was content.

* * *

 _ **Day 3 – Hidden**_

He trudged through the snow, to The door. He chuckled to himself; 'The door', with a big capital 'T'. He didn't know why he didn't capitalize the 'D' in door - he felt the importance of 'the' meant something more.

( _One day he'd look back and laugh at himself; when Toriel would take on the nickname 'T'. Would he give it to her because they met by way of 'The door' - or something else along the lines of coincidental?_ )

When he got there, hazy snowflakes drifting across his vision, and the door standing tall, purple edges edged in frost, he would wonder, once again, why she hid herself away so.

On the other side of the door - and even later in life once they knew one another - Toriel would wonder why her dear friend never spoke of himself. Why he guarded his words so - _so_ \- in a way shrouded his emotions and obscured who _he_ was.

She couldn't understand why he hid his heart so.

* * *

 _ **Day 4 – Protect**_

 _0.213/1 HP_

He grunted, eyesockets screwed tight, but besides that didn't react. Cackling told him what he had thought - the demon flower was just _playing_ with them.

Luckily the kid had gotten Papyrus out of range. Well, the kid and Undyne. Asgore was caught between grabbing Toriel and following Undyne, and Toriel had frozen in surprise at the monstrous _thing_ that had appeared before them.

Flowey had managed to grab ahold of two of the Souls - Brave little orange and Yellow Justice, one of Sans' own traits - and had come to attack them and kill Frisk, just when a compromise had seemed to be reached.

But that _wretched_ plant had come to destroy the little boy, no matter the cost.

And when Flowey had taken aim at _Toriel_ , of all people, laughing devilishly as the little kid cried out _'mom!'_ in such anguish, well . . .

Sans didn't know if it was for Frisk, for Toriel, hell, even for _himself_ , but he'd protect her, dust and damnation.

No matter _what_ the cost.

* * *

 _ **Day 5 – Confession**_ **(** _ **a little bit based off of a mini comic)**_

"I killed one of the kids."

The confession rang like a knell of judgement; blunt and unwavering. There was emotion behind the statement; _yes_ , controlled emotion, but emotion nevertheless.

But she didn't scream at him; didn't shout obscenities or yell or run away. She still stood there, head down turned and eyes shadowed, and he stood a few feet away, hands in pockets and his own eyesockets tilted towards the floor.

". . . why?" She asked after a moment, the question barely breathed. Her tone lacked warmth, as though the fires inside her froze from the cold of her own hurt.

Sans turned away, trying to control the slight trembles in his shoulders. "Did . . . did you ever know someone so well, that one day, when they changed, you didn't know them at all? That something, _happened_ , and that thing changed them to the point of being unrecognizable? That this - this _stranger_ , who you once thought you knew so well, did something you didn't think them capable of?"

"Yes," she said, looking at him with a sad expression and eyes gleaming with yet-shed tears. But he still wasn't looking at her.

". . . he threatened my bro," he said after a while. "He threatened _me_. I - I was scared. But," he cut off, breathing in sharply. He turned to look at her, his eyelights blinding as he tried not to cry. "I had to tell you. Because I can't let you think it was all Asgore. And - and if we're going to be in this relationship, then I need to be honest. I killed the little Green kid, Tori, I killed him."

He was trembling hard and his voice began to choke. There was no hesitance when she pitched forward to hug him tight, and he sobbed against her, crying about a child who forgave him for their own murder that he didn't deserve.

And, if she forgave him, well. . .

He was not Asgore. And his confession to his wrongdoing was enough to leave her love for him unwavering.

* * *

 _ **Day 6 – AU (I'm choosing Outertale, which I only vaguely know about)[*I think a demon star is when one star revolves around another. Not one hundred percent sure though]**_

Sans whistled as he walked along the chilly frosted path, to the strange mist-wreathed door to the Ruins.

He was from Snowdin - a place not all that covered in snow but cold as _heck_ and to the northern area of their backwater planet's pull (it was actually a large moon, with a Barrier woven around the moon to keep them in. It was so far out from any of the Human stations or worlds it had been called "The Underground" and had surely been lost to their memories by now.)

It was fairly boring, being a sentry who watched out for humans who were less likely to Fall than meteorites. But recently he had found something _special_. Something - something that put _stars_ into his eyes and he felt made their planet spin.

He met a lady.

 _Whoa_ buster! Not _that_ way. At least . . . he didn't think so? They had fun and told jokes and puns until the sky lightened from black oil to a faded black from a too-far demon star*.

But . . . he _did_ like her. More so than other people. Except his bro, but they were _family_ , and this is a different kind of like.

She made him warm and fuzzy to the point he wanted to flush blue like the nebulae above Waterfall. And her laugh - her laugh! It was like the tinkling of stars themselves.

And when she _cried_. . .

He'd only had the displeasure of hearing it twice, but it was twice to many. The sound made him feel as though his Soul were shattering slowly into Stardust.

So did he - ahem - _like_ her? Well . . .

Sans thought about it as they did their usual routine, with a _Knock-knock_ and _Who is there?_ followed by a _Sun_ and responded with a _Sun who?_ and then, _Sun one wanted to say hello today!_ and lastly, _Ahahaha! That one was a stretch!_ **,** _Hehheh, yeah I know._

And if he smiled wider, well, maybe there was something there after all.

* * *

 _ **Day 7 – Free day ("Project E" is MY story concept based off of the GasterBlaster AU, which I do not own)**_

He gripped the sink tight, claws scratching against porcelain. His eyelights flickered up to the mirror, which shone oddly from the shadow his hood cast.

There was a knock at the door. "Sans?" Toriel's soft voice coming though. "Are you alright dear?"

He didn't answer, instead staring at his reflection that stared back with animalistic features.

"I'm coming in," his Bondmate said.

The door opened gently, hinges barely giving an irritating squeak that Sans chose not to comment on. He saw her from the corner of his vision, his sense heightened. She did not cower not fear at his half-torn form. Rather, she came up behind him and gently rubbed his shoulders, easing some of the tension away.

He had told them months ago; only vague mentions of what had been called 'Project E.' He and his old colleague - ( _friend, teacher, e_ ) - had been working on it for years, Sans agreeing to the project since his mentor was too frail of magic, rather than body like Sans. It was his physical fragility that actually helped in this regard, more than anything.

(Both the skeleton brothers already had clawed fingers and toes, and little short tails, but when Sans became _this_ half-formed creature, they sharpened and became more deadly, his tail longer and whip-like. His head grew crest and mandible changed to a short muzzle-like structure, with sharp teeth.)

(The full form was even more terrifying, and quadrupedal.)

( _Potentially Papyrus could turn into one too if the right genes were unlocked_.)

Sans had told his friends that sometimes if his magic became too built up - from keeping the full beastly form pent up - his body would force a change to rid of the excess energy.

They'd all been really understanding, but when it happened the first three times, he had only let Papyrus see him and bring him meals.

But this, the fourth, Toriel, his _Bondmate_ , had insisted. And it wasn't fair of him. Connected in their very _Souls_ as they were, he needed to trust her.

And she, in turn, needed to accept him.

"Always," she breathed near where his "ear" was.

She hugged him from behind, still taller than him (but honestly she was never _too_ much taller than him. Enough, but not too much) and she gently pried his hands from the poor, scratched porcelain. She held his hands, murmuring, "Are claws really so bad?" And she clacked her own claws against his gently.

He laughed softly at the silly gesture; he and Papyrus had explained why they wore mittens and gloves quite a while ago. He only removed them for a long time when he was stuck like this and risked ripping their threads. Toriel would thereafter jokingly chase him with her claws out and tickle him when he was feeling down.

"I guess not," he breathed, marveling at the difference of her hands and his; how they _fit_ , though unseemingly to anyone else.

Toriel nuzzle against his neck vertebrae and giggled when she elicited a dang _purr_ from him. He tried to huff indignantly because it was _embarrassing,_ dangit, but she merely nuzzled against him again, murmuring her love like she feared he had Fallen low and couldn't hear her Soul singing for him.

And he turned in her grip and hugged her close, his own Soul shining back, and he realized, that she wouldn't leave him. Not over this.

And that made him feel okay.


End file.
